


What We Do After Dark

by AuroraKant



Series: DickGraysonWeek2020 [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Dick Grayson is Not Nightwing, Gen, Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Jason Todd is the Red Hood, M/M, Never Adopted AU, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Assault, Prostitution, Romani Dick Grayson, Strong Language, This gets dark my dudes, This is actually quite hopeful, but also dark, no actual sex in this, so stay safe!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraKant/pseuds/AuroraKant
Summary: Dick Grayson never got adopted. He never met Batman, never became Robin. Instead life dealt him a much harsher hand.Now, years later, he lives on the streets, when he doesn't have the money for one of those shitty weekly apartments. He earns his money through sex work. But that is not the only thing he does: No, he enacts his own kind of Justice on all of those who don't respect him and his friends.If only Batman would leave him alone.Day 1: Robins Raised Together | Age Reversal |Never Adopted
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd
Series: DickGraysonWeek2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697662
Comments: 36
Kudos: 313





	What We Do After Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!  
> Guess who had this one finished but forgot what day it was? Yes. Me.  
> So, here you have it! THE prompt for day 1. Or is it?  
> I guess you'll have to wait an see! ;)  
> This one is a bit heavier so look after yourselves! And enjoy! And tell me you love me! I can need it!

Dick Grayson’s life story was one of tragedy. All his friends – if you could call them friends that is – agreed: Left behind in this horrible hole of a city, brought into a juvenile facility by a racist government agency after his parents’ death, left there to rot, later having to deal with abusive foster parents, and then the streets. It was a sad story. A disaster waiting to happen. And yet most of his friends shared it. Maybe a few details were different, maybe drugs were involved, maybe the abuse and the reason for living in a dirty alley came from a shitty home life. But at the end of the day all of them were the same.

Fucking losers. Giant tragedies. Prostitutes, thieves, and lowlifes. Nobody worth fighting for.

Which was exactly the reason _why_ Dick fought for them. If no one was gonna do it for them, he would have to do it himself. And he did. He tried his best, but it was near impossible. Especially when all one had to their name was a backpack full of clothes and an apartment rented on a weekly basis when they were lucky to have enough money on hand.

Which he currently had. The apartment that is. And he enjoyed it to wake up with a roof over his head, instead of a cardboard box that did a shit job at keeping the rain out. He enjoyed it even more to have a bathroom to himself. It was tiny, of course, and it was impossible to turn around while showering without bumping into the toilet and the sink, but it was a bathroom. Just for him.

It fucking sucked to have to get ready in a public one. People always stared at you, as if they could smell the street on your clothes and your choices from a hundred miles away. It didn’t matter that Dick made sure to always have enough pocket change to wash his clothes in a laundromat at least once a week. It didn’t matter that he tried to find a shower at least daily. For the Gotham public he remained scum.

Unless they wanted to fuck him, of course. Then they turned real nice, real quick.

Scumbags, all of them.

But then again, Dick was making money through them. Without a high school diploma or a good track record, very few job offers had arrived at his doorstep. And after running away because Mr. Sheffield became a bit too handsy for Dick to handle – he had been sixteen for fucks sake! – no one wanted him at all. A lady friend of Dick had been a sex worker at the time, she let Dick sleep on her couch when it got really rough, and through her Dick had learned that he had options. None of them good, but options, nonetheless.

He had tried waiting tables at first, had worked behind the counter of clubs and bars, had lied about his age, but sooner rather than later something always went wrong. Be it his boss trying to blackmail him, or a colleague having a falling out with the Penguin, Black Mask or whatever those crazy bastards were called. The second option usually meant destruction, explosions and death – and Dick’s place of employment closing down.

At the end of it all, Dick had reached adulthood with absolutely nothing to show for. He had a favorite spot behind a dumpster on second street and he knew that people liked to think they owned his body. There wasn’t a day in which he didn’t curse his beauty. In a different life he might have enjoyed it, might have liked the way women winked at him and men joked about it, but here? Here it was something that made people think of him one way and one way only.

So, he decided to own it. If guys wanted to fuck him no matter what he did, if they tried it anyways even if the told them _no_ , then he would fucking earn some money doing it.

And that had changed some things.

“If you ever fucking touch Jessica again, I will hunt you down and cut your dick off!”

The john under him just groaned. And Dick couldn’t really fault him for that. Dick had jumped on top of him from a fire escape after all, not caring at all that most men didn’t take well to 180lbs of rage falling on top of them. Plus, the guy definitely deserved it after what he did to Jessica.

“Come on! Say it!”

“Get down from me you bastard…”

The john was probably trying to insult him, but his lack of air made him sound winded instead of intimidating. Not that Dick had planned on being intimidated at all. No, that was his job. He would be the one to intimidate the shit out of this asshole.

“Oh, you can talk! Wonderful! Now listen closely, because I am only going to say this once before pounding your teeth in: Stay the fuck away from Jessica. Or any of the other girls. Or boys. You have lost your free-fucking card. If I hear from any of them that you touched them again, I will come to your house, and I will wake your wife up, and I will make her watch while I cut off your dick. And you want to know the best part? After I told her the reason I’m here, she would let me do it.”

His voice had been light and airy the entirety of his threat. Combined with his dark clothes and the ill-fitting ski mask it made for a weird picture. But these had been the only clothes Dick owned that at least vaguely concealed his identity. He honestly didn’t know how all the masks of the city did it.

“You asshat! My boss will hear about it! You will pay!”

“He can fucking try!”

With that said, Dick used the heel of his foot to knock the bastard out. He would wake up soon, but until then Dick would let the rest of Crime Alley decide what they wanted to do with the body. He wasn’t the last instance of justice in the streets, after all.

Instead of sticking around to wait for that to happen, however, Dick retreated back onto the fire escape, making his way up to the roof. It was almost 5am and he wanted nothing more than his bed and a shower. Maybe the rest of the cereal still in his mini fridge. And probably not in that order. No, shower first. He wanted to wash some dirt from his body. Some scum.

But when he reached the roof, someone was waiting for him. Someone he recognized because everyone living in Gotham would recognize the person in front of him: The fucking Batman. Aw, shit.

“Aw, shit. You know, I always thought you concentrated on the bigger fish. Prostitution and self-defense really don’t solicit your presence… You don’t have to bring me in yourself. I can walk to the police right away. You don’t have to go through the trouble of bringing me in yourself, really-“

“That was dangerous”

The deep, growly voice of the Batman interrupted Dick’s wild rambling. Thank god, because that had been going down an embarrassing road. Still, Dick wasn’t sure he followed whatever Batman had said:

“What?”

“What you did down there was dangerous. That man is Francis McClain, a high-ranking lieutenant in Black Mask’s operations.”

It was so surreal. Batman was standing in front of Dick, on a rooftop, during the early morning hours of what might just be another Wednesday, telling him he was concerned. Dick really was living in the weirdest timeline.

Little did he know that this was just the beginning of a certainly not normal Wednesday.

“I don’t care who he is. All I know is that he beat three of the girls working on St. Clementine Street bloody last week. And that one of them died because of that. And that Jessica is never going to be the same. So, fuck off.”

“Dick, please, he is involved in some-“

“You know my name? Fuck.”

Dick no longer had time to think about the fact that he might have accidentally broken the first rule of the Gotham underbelly: Never get involved with the Bats. Instead, dread pooled in his stomach at the revelation that Batman knew who he was. Batman knew who the masked man was that beat-up johns who didn’t play by the rules. He knew who the unsung hero of the Crime Alley prostitutes was.

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

He could no longer listen to what the Bat was talking about. No, he turned around, running across the roof, and jumped down onto the next fire escape. With a few pushes and a slightly dangerous kick, he managed to dislodge a window and get into the building he had jumped onto. He ended up in a hallway, as expected, and started running.

Batman didn’t follow him, only the distant sound of the man yelling his name in his ears.

Dick only stopped running when he reached his apartment almost half an hour later. He had taken the complicated route back, even though he knew it was probably pointless. If Batman knew who he was, he also knew where Dick lived.

The shower that followed his arrival didn’t feel as soothing as it usually did. His thoughts were moving way too fast for that. Batman knew who he was. Dick had promised himself to never get involved with that Bats. People who involved themselves with them only got killed and Dick liked staying alive.

Especially since he was the only one who did what was necessary. He protected those that couldn’t protect themselves. The victims that weren’t well-liked. The scum Gotham didn’t care to try and safe. He protected his own. The sex workers and prostitutes. The ones who sold their bodies. The escorts and skunks. The whores, and hoes, and sluts. The public had many words for them, and Dick didn’t like any of them.

They were his friends. They were him. And he wasn’t something despicable, he was just Dick Grayson. Someone so down on his luck that sex work had been his only option left. But that didn’t make him a bad person. Neither did it turn Jessica, Anita, Raoul, Johan, Cissy, Ruth, or Paolo into horrible people. They were just people trying to stay alive in a world that wanted them dead.

And Dick had the capabilities of protecting them, of making sure that johns who broke the rules would never return. He was still athletic, still fit, never allowing himself to cut that one tie to his parents that remained. One day he would fly again like they once had. Until then he would stay alive and help his friends.

He used every tool he could get his hands on to do just that. You didn’t survive in Gotham if you played by the rules, and if it took Dick jumping on assholes and beating them bloody to keep himself and his friends safe, then he would do it.

Sleep didn’t want to come, when he finally reached his bed. It was hard and lumpy and the best thing his body had felt since he left it behind a day prior. His bones ached, his muscles burned, and Dick could feel the exhaustion pulling his eyelids down, but still, the relief of sleep seemed to elude him.

The sun had already reached the high point of its arch when Dick managed to pry his eyes open. At some point in the early morning sleep must have dragged him under, and yet it felt as if he had only gone to bed a couple of minutes ago. The clock on his old Nokia told him that it was just past 12pm and the growling in his stomach informed him of the fact that it was way past the time for him to eat something.

Getting out of bed was hard, every joint protesting, but Dick managed to wrestle himself into a standing position. One quick look into his fridge, however, told him that food had to wait. Not even the cereal he had thought he had, was left. His stomach made a gurgling sound and Dick agreed: He needed food. But for that to happen he had to get dressed. And leave the house.

Dick had three categories of clothes, only a few outfits each: The loose and dark clothes for his late-night adventures, the glittery, tight ones for his normal nighttime job, and the jeans and hoodies for when he had to face the normal day-time population of Gotham.

It always felt weird to breach the outside world after a night like the one he just had. He was an alien wandering through streets of humans, who had no idea what was going on, who were blind to the horrors of their own city. Or maybe Dick just hadn’t slept enough. Maybe he was just tired, and his brain was unable to process his surrounding accordingly.

When he reached the store only a few people were in it. A couple of college students, a businessman, and an old lady sorting through the fresh vegetable aisle. Dick wanted fresh vegetables. Or fruit. Maybe he would get a couple of apples, something that didn’t come out of a can or a microwave. He could definitely need the vitamins.

He was sorting through instant food, looking for offers or deals that would make his shopping cheaper, when he heard the raised voices of the college students from behind him. They were in the aisle at the end of the shop, just a few feet away from him and Dick was basically forced to listen:

“- tonight. I mean, what is B thinking? He wants us to go in completely unprepared!”

“Steph, calm down. I’m sure he has a plan.”

“Or course you’d say that. Always ready to kiss B’s ass. Men!”

“It’s not like that and you know it. Okay, so, maybe Bruce overreacts when it comes to… Person D but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t still the man he is.”

“Pff! But busting-“

“Psst! Someone’s coming!”

Dick had dropped the can of pickled onions on purpose. He wouldn’t want for Tim Drake-Wayne and his friend to have to explain themselves to him. It hadn’t been all that hard for Dick to maybe guess the identities of most of the Bats. It was really hard, however, to claim plausible deniability with how often Dick accidentally stumbled across them and especially with how horrible the younger ones were at keeping their identities secret.

But… Dick didn’t want to be involved. He had made an art out of turning around and looking the other way whenever he met one of the Wayne’s in public. Which happened more often than could be explained by pure coincidence. But Dick didn’t try to find out why that was the case, he didn’t snoop, or investigate or get himself in situations the Bats were prone to showing up. He really didn’t.

Most of the time he did the exact opposite. He figured out where they would be and went to work in a different part of Crime Alley or the city. Or when he met them in public, he made sure that they didn’t accidentally spill secret facts about their lives in front of him that they wouldn’t be able to explain.

Because while Dick had always been clever and good at solving puzzles, no matter what his shitty public-school teachers said, the Gotham public could only be kept in ignorance for so long. And just because Dick didn’t like them, didn’t mean he wanted to see them dead.

So, he made noise while moving around the corner, nodded in the direction of the shocked faces of the two young adults, and moved past them without any indication that he knew who they were.

He was a good citizen like that.

Nearing the checkout register, Dick did what he had dreaded doing since realizing he had to go shopping: He looked inside his wallet. There was not much in it. Barely anything at all. He had maybe ten dollars left for food this week, if he wanted to be able to pay his rent. There were still two work nights left before he had to pay for the upcoming week, but that would mean taking some of the money he had already set aside for rent and using it now. It meant having to earn more the next few nights to make up for the dip in his expanses. It meant making heavy choices in the supermarket.

Dick sighed. So, no fresh fruit for him today. Instead he chose what he deemed the most filling and important items in his cart and hoped that the added 25 dollars wouldn’t mean that he slept on a cardboard box in the next few weeks.

It was nearing evening when Dick decided that he had earned himself a warm meal.

His shopping trip hadn’t really been satisfying and he knew that he still had a long night in front of him. It had been weeks since he last allowed himself the trip to a soup kitchen. He didn’t like to frequent them, didn’t want anyone seeing him too often, making connections, or following him home.

He also didn’t really like the way they made him feel. Like he was even poorer than he was. Like he had truly nothing. Just because it was true didn’t mean he had to constantly remind himself of that. But today… Dick had to go in the direction of the kitchen anyways, his pimp wanting his weekly cut, so it wouldn’t be a detour to grab a plate of hot food while he was at it.

Dick had tried working without one, a pimp, that is, but it had been rough. Rougher than it already was. A good pimp made at least sure that the worst of the worst knew to stay away. Without one Dick had been fresh meat, a piece of ass everyone wanted, and nobody was forced to respect or pay.

It had been a choice of pure survival to accept a pimp as a part of his life. And Matches was… okay. He was an asshole, an alcoholic, and a pig. But he only took a cut of 30% and he made sure that most bastards stayed away from his working girls and boys. Except for the bastards that either slipped through his fingers or those that were too high up in the food-chain of Gotham’s darker parts.

But Dick took care of them. And the other asshole as well. The ones who only revealed themselves to be bastards after they became regulars, or the pieces of shit who knew exactly how thick the line of hurting one of them was, before Matches interfered.

Dick was the one kicking the shit out of them. He was the one who made sure that these fucked up assholes would never come back.

The door stayed closed, however, when Dick knocked on it today. It seemed as if Matches had forgotten their date. He was probably passed out drunk under a barstool in some of the dumps around here, but Dick wasn’t keen on finding out. Instead he pushed the envelope full of money through the mail slot and tried to ignore the unsettled feeling in his stomach. Matches was never not here when Dick delivered his money, no matter how much Dick wanted to act otherwise.

But no. Dick had involved himself in way too many dangerous things in the last day, he wouldn’t add _investigating the whereabouts of a mafia affiliate_ to his lists of things he shouldn’t do but did.

No, Dick turned around and made his way to the soup kitchen. His stomach would thank him.

It was full. Of course, it was. Gotham had an enormous homeless population and many of them counted on the soup kitchens as their only source of food. Many single moms and drug addicts did as well. And sex workers. Dick saw more than one acquaintance in the queue and that did nothing when it came to making himself feel better.

Instead he tried to focus on the things he still had to do before he could go to work tonight. He would have to go back to his apartment to change clothes, maybe take another quick shower before going out. Maybe the glittery tank top for tonight, he liked it and it wasn’t as thin as his other choices. It was cold outside, and he wanted all the protection against the cold he could get.

Before he knew it, the queue had moved forward. But instead of the usual worker – an old lady who liked to give Dick extras with a twinkle in her eyes – the face of a grumpy kid greeted him. A grumpy teen everyone in the city was prone to recognize: Damian Wayne.

His surprise must have shown in his face because the kid offered up an explanation without Dick ever asking a question:

“Our school decided that everyone should partake in charitable work for the semester and, yes, I chose to be here.”

The kid obviously _didn’t_ want to be here, and Dick couldn’t fault him, but he also didn’t want to start a conversation or be roped into one. So, he took his tray and moved away, towards one of the small tables in the corner of the room. He wanted to enjoy his meal in silence.

And he did. When he left after finishing his first hot meal in ages – it had been some sort of stew – nobody else had talked to him. A few nodded in his direction or raised a hand in greeting, but all in all Dick had been left alone. Which was probably why he immediately noticed the figure of Damian Wayne standing at a street corner, talking to his phone. That kid definitely didn’t want to talk to the person on the other end, either.

He involuntarily slowed down when he walked past the boy. He could claim to stay away all he wanted, but that tiny bit of curiosity inside of him could never be silenced completely. The stuff Dick heard wasn’t all that interesting most of the time, but he liked this small glance into the life of other people. People who weren’t him. Who had different problems and different solutions.

It was a tiny bit different this time:

“No, Father.”

“The charity work. I told you about it.”

“I don’t care about that! I promised to help them out and I am not backing out, just because you decided to reschedule a meeting!”

“…”

“Yes, Father… I’ll be there…”

Dick had heard enough. It was time he went back home, changed clothes, and made his rounds through the neighborhood. His meal detour had costed him time, time he didn’t have if he really wanted to make more money tonight. If he really wanted to be able to pay rent next week.

“Hey, Alicia.”

“Dickie-boy! Good to see you!”

Alicia hugged him tight and he returned the favor. Nice, non-sexual touch was far and few in between and he and the others liked to gift hugs and cuddles because of that. Alicia’s were always a treat because she was taller than him even without her 6-inch heels and with them she dwarfed him. It felt good to be pressed against her warm chest. It was the closest he came to a motherly embrace and he was going to take it.

“And it is always the _climax_ of my day to see you!”

And because Alicia was the best person he knew, she laughed at his bad pun and his wiggling eyebrows.

“You dandy! How have you been?”

“Oh, you know how it is. Took care of a few things, made sure that some things don’t repeat themselves. The usual, really”

“Dick…”

His work – his other work – was a well-kept secret. Only the girls and boys he truly trusted, knew he was the one who beat up johns who didn’t behave. The rest only knew that when they talked loud enough about what happened to them, the shadow would take care of it. Dick made sure that the information reached him. Alicia was one of few trusted ones and she loved to fret over him because of it.

“Alicia…”

“Don’t mock me, boy. Are you looking after yourself? You’re thin.”

“I’m doing just fine. You always say I’m thin, but that is just false information. I’m lean, okay? Lean.”

“Of course, you are.”

Dick loved bantering with her, loved how normal it made him feel, but today he had come for something else:

“How is Jessica doing?”

“She… Leslie did everything she could. Said physically everything should heal. But I don’t know… what if the rest doesn’t?”

Jessica and Alicia had been best friends and roommates since both of them had started in the business and shared a street corner. Alicia had been the one to find Jessica when she looked for her after Jessica hadn’t checked in on time. It hadn’t been pretty.

But Dick had done what he could.

“I’m so sorry. And I know this isn’t enough, but maybe it makes it easier for a bit?”

Dick presented her with one of his countless secrets: Money from his savings. From the first shift 16-year-old Dick had worked in a dingy café, to the very first night someone had given him money to fuck him, to the night before yesterday where he sucked off countless men, Dick had saved money. Not much. Some nights maybe a dollar made it into his jar, but still, every night since he started earning money Dick had put something away.

And he never touched it. Not for himself, at least. Even if it meant he would be unable to keep his apartment or if he had to go hungry for a few days. Because this money was his way out. His hope.

He had started his saving account in hopes off one day finishing high school and being able to go to college. Nowadays his dreams were smaller, but not any less unachievable: He wanted to rent a gymnastics studio. Just for him. Just for one day. Because he wanted to fly again. Wanted to soar through the air.

But whenever one of the girls was in peril, one of the boys needed serious help, Dick payed for it. Whenever he could, whenever they needed medical help Leslie couldn’t give, Dick gave them something of his savings. Never all of it, but enough to save their lives.

And now Jessica needed help. Needed someone to help her back on her feet. Needed a chance to move on and Dick would happily provide it.

Alicia flipped through the stack of notes Dick had pushed in her hands and her face lost all of its color.

“I can’t take this, Dick. You know I can’t-“

“Please. This is the least I can do! I wasn’t fast enough to make sure what happened to the others didn’t happen to her and now I can at least help her come back from it.”

“It wasn’t your fault and you know it.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t _whatever_ me, young man!”

With that Dick was once again caught in a tight hug. It was crushing. It was everything. Dick could feel his tears threaten to spill, could feel the guilt trying to choke him. He knew he couldn’t safe everyone. He knew it was impossible – but he would try anyways. And he would shoulder the guilt of not managing the unimaginable.

“Please take it… you could pay a therapist with that money. Or move to a better part of town…”

“Yeah, and you could leave this hole behind.”

“I would just end up back here anyway. You know I could never leave any of you behind.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

It took some persuasion, some more hugs, a pinch in his cheek, but finally Dick managed to make Alicia take the money. It was probably in safer hands that it had been in his apartment anyways. They needed it. Dick could do without.

Their ways parted and Dick tried to ignore her longing gaze as he made his way to his preferred corner. Some of the girls worried about him, Alicia probably most of them, Jessica too, before, and it felt as if he broke their heart whenever he walked away from them.

Reaching his workplace, Dick shook the dark thoughts from his mind. People didn’t pay to sleep with a philosopher, they wanted to fuck a pretty piece of ass. Dick could give them that, but he had to get into the role. If he didn’t, he might come off as too mouthy. Or too demanding for a common street whore.

His first costumer didn’t take long to arrive, even if he wasn’t the sexual sort. Or the paying one.

“For the last time, I am not selling you information, Hood.”

The vigilante had landed behind Dick with a soft thump and Dick no longer needed to turn around to know which of Gotham’s masks liked to terrorize him.

“Not what I came for”

“Promise?”

“Promise”

“What else can I entertain you with tonight? An exquisite alley blowjob? An outstanding dumpster fuck?”

Dick knew that Hood would never take him up on any of these offers. He knew that Hood had certain feelings when it came to sex work and Dick respected that. Respected that even the bloodiest of Gotham’s heroes had lines he wouldn’t cross. But that didn’t mean that Dick didn’t have a role to play.

And that Hood wouldn’t answer accordingly:

“Not tonight, honey. You know how it is: No sex on the job.”

Dick stuck out his tongue when Hood finally appeared by his side, still ~~in~~ dressed in the shadows of the alley he had landed in. 

“Very mature.”

“Oh, you know how it is. In every prostitute lives an eternal child never allowed to grow old.”

“Way too make it sound fucking creepy.”

“That was the goal, actually”

The Red Hood had tried to get Dick to sell out pimps and drug lords since his first day working. And no matter what Dick did, the Red Hood would be back. At first Dick had feared for his life, because he knew how the anti-hero operated: By killing. But Hood had made it obvious pretty fast that he would never harm a sex worker, or a poor drug addict caught in a pyramid scheme. Still, Dick did his best to get him to leave him the fuck alone. It didn’t work. It never did.

“But let’s cut the crap: What are you here for, Hood?”

“There is gonna be a bust on Black Mask’s men in the warehouse on O’Conner’s Street tonight. I wanted to make sure you and your friends are staying away. We don’t need casualties. Especially not pretty ones like you.”

“Ah, fuck you. You know I wouldn’t have been over there, anyways.”

“Maybe, but I heard you pissed off some of Black Mask’s guys and I thought it would be the decent thing to warn you. You know, being a good guy and all.”

“Do secret identities mean nothing to you guys?”

The sick feeling was back in his stomach. Dick had told nobody about his shadowy activities so late at night they became early morning. Only a handful people knew about it and they would never tell anyone. And now Batman and the Red Hood had confronted him with the knowledge that _they_ did in less than 24 hours. Dick really, really didn’t want to think about it. He really wanted for this day to be over.

“Go fuck yourself. Fuck off, Hood. I am not in the mood. Shoot some assholes, be one yourself, and think about the fact that I don’t run around telling people I know who Batman is either! So, FUCK OFF!”

Dick had enough with vigilantes interrupting his life, thinking they had any right to it. He had work to do, money to earn, and people to safe. He didn’t need a hero pissing contest to amp it up.

For once in his life Hood listened. He looked apologetic – or as apologetic as a red helmet could look – before grappling onto the next rooftop. Dick waited until he couldn’t see the vigilante at all, before he returned his focus on the streets before him. He had stepped into the shadows while talking to Hood and now he used the concealment to gather himself again.

He would have to do something soon. If Batman and Red Hood knew, it was only a matter of time before some of the more dangerous people Dick pissed off would know, too.

But all of his further thoughts on the matter had to wait. One of his regulars just walked by and Dick still had money to earn. More of it with each second he wasted on thinking about problems he couldn’t solve anyway:

“Hey, sweetie. Looking for me?”

“Yeah”

“Wonderful. Come closer and I can _show_ you my terms”

His client followed him into the alley and Dick banished every intelligent thought from his mind. People didn’t want a conversation partner or an intelligent fuck. They wanted a sex toy, a slut, something to make their dick wet.

And Dick could be just that when asked.

It had been a long night. One, Dick feared, wasn’t over yet. His knees ached, as did his back, and he longed for his bed when he jumped from one fire escape onto the other.

Normally he would be on his way back to his apartment. Normally he didn’t do his side job two nights in a row. But Alicia had sent him a text, had told him that she saw Francis McClain at the borders of the streets Dick called _his_ in his head. And now he was hunting.

Because he had told Francis what would happen should he ever set a foot in Dick’s territory ever again. The man hadn’t listened – and Dick was going to make him pay. Make him hurt. Make him regret ever being born at all.

In the distance he could hear sirens and see the red sheen of a fire and he knew exactly where the Bats were. Hood had told him after all: The warehouse at O’Conner’s Street. Luckily the last sighting of Francis had been on the other side of Crime Alley. Far away from Batman and friends.

He was silent while he moved from one house on to the next. His old sneakers only sometimes broadcasting his location by skidding over the rooftop gravel. But all in all, Francis never saw him coming. Just like he hadn’t seen him coming yesterday.

Dick spotted the man next to an alley facing a corner store. And before he could think it through, he jumped down from his spot on top of the roof, landing once again square on Francis’s back. The man went down like a bag of potatoes.

“I told you to never show your face again. I warned you. I told you what would happen.”

“Well, I warned you too”

The voice. That was Francis’s voice. But it didn’t sound winded or airy. No, it came from directly behind Dick. He whirled around, but it was already too late. Francis had brought friends and one of them had been standing close enough to Dick to grab him before he could do anything useful.

Meanwhile the man Dick had knocked over stood up, and Dick could see that while, yes, he looked remarkable like Francis, he wasn’t the real deal. The real Francis, moving closer to Dick, apparently saw the confusion and the following realization on Dick’s face, because he laughed when he said:

“We’re all just lucky that my cousin Mike shares my good looks.”

“Pff, what good looks? You mean greasy hair and a potbelly to soften any blows?”

Dick shouldn’t antagonize bad guys like this. He really, really shouldn’t. But he couldn’t help himself. His stress responses had never been normal. Or helpful. The fist to his stomach came to no surprise.

“Shut the fuck up. It is time someone taught you a lesson.”

Dick’s only response was baring his teeth. He didn’t have enough air for anything else. Enough people had taught him this kind of lesson over the years. Blows and hits and pain were nothing new for the people the Gotham foster system had raised. It was nothing new for Dick. And so, he barely flinched when Francis took a step closer and slapped him across the face. It didn’t even hurt all that badly, his hand getting caught in Dick’s mask.

“Oh, do we want to see who is under the mask? Do you think you’re a hero, boy? Do you think you’re friends with Batman?”

“Fuck off!”

Francis’s goons only laughed. And whoever that idiot was, that had Dick in his ugly hands, his hold held strong. No matter what Dick did – and he was quite flexible – he just couldn’t break free. Dick was powerless when Francis’s hand reached the corner of his ski mask and pulled it off.

“Oh, a pretty little face underneath…”

Dick was almost sure that Francis didn’t realize he was caressing Dick’s cheek while he spoke. His eyes were too far away for that, deep in thought. Dick dreaded the moment Francis came to the realization that was just around the corner.

“Fuck off. If get out of here, I am going to chop your dick off! Let me go! Bitch! Asshole! Bastard!”

“Shut up! Hey, aren’t you that whore that likes to parade around Martha-Wayne-Street?”

Too late. Francis had recognized him. Dick didn’t know why – or didn’t want to know why – but the moment people knew he was a sex worker they liked to change the kind of violence they had been planning to inflict on him. Suddenly it wasn’t fists and kicks waiting for him, but rape. Painful, horrible, mind-tearing rape. And Dick really, really wasn’t in the mood for that.

“I can kick your ass no matter what!”

“I would like to see you try. Are you fucking the Bats? That the reason they busted our location? Well, too bad that that isn’t the place where we’re gonna take you to, to show you just how much we appreciate little whores sticking their noses into business that doesn’t involve them.”

“I was keeping so far away from the shit you’re pulling! If you would have kept your fucking perverted dick in your pants and your hands to yourself, I would have never found a reason to interfere! Bitch, I ain’t no snitch and I ain’t no Bat. But I can still be your worst nightmare!”

Dick was angry. And scared. Terribly scared. But sometimes when people were in high stress situations, their body mobilized reserves they didn’t even know they had. This was such a moment for Dick.

With newfound strength he teared his arm away from the goon holding him in his place. With his arms free, it didn’t take long for him to flip on top of the guy behind him, wrenching his head sideways until a weak crack was audible. He wasn’t dead. Probably. Dick had most likely only bruised his neck and not broken it. He didn’t care either way.

Still Francis’s man looked at him as if he had grown a new head, a sudden respect in their gazes. Yeah, Dick wasn’t just a worthless whore after all, was he?

“You better get down there, boy.”

Dick was still standing on the fallen body of Francis’s bruiser. His chest heaving, his fists raised.

“If you come willingly you might even leave the Chapel again, if not we’ll have to dump your body with the rest of the snitches buried under holy ground. And let me make this clear: When my boys and I are done fucking you senseless, you’ll wish we’d killed you faster.”

His stance was battle ready, but Dick’s eyes were frantically searching for an exit. He might be able to take down one of them, maybe even two or three, but he couldn’t stand against all of them. He had to escape. He had to survive. He owed it to Alicia, Jessica, Paolo, and the rest. He owed it to himself.

He flexed his fists.

There was no exit visible. No escape ready for him to take. He would have to fight. No, he would fight. Gladly.

But before Dick could jump onto the next guy, a shadow landed in front of him. A dark shadow, black ink come to life. Batman.

The man didn’t even glace in Dick’s direction, instead sending the first goon flying with one punch from his gauntlet-clad fist. Holy shit. And if this display of almost in-human strength wasn’t enough, the Red Hood and Robin appeared too.

They finished Francis and his men quick – quicker than Dick could have ever hoped of doing himself – and Dick felt left behind, when he looked from one of them to the other only to realize that Batman had already vanished again. Instead it was Red Hood who came closer to Dick, his hands raised in the ultimate sign of peace:

“Hey? Everything okay there?”

Only now did Dick realize that his chest was still heaving, and his hands were shaking. Fuck. This had been too close. He almost died tonight. He almost got fucking raped to death tonight. _Excuse him for being a little shaken up about that!_ Okay. No. Dick knew that the Red Hood didn’t mean it like that. It was okay. It would be okay…

“Sorry. Yeah… it’s alright.”

Dick didn’t know how but the slight tilt of Red Hood’s helmet told him that Hood was definitely calling bullshit on that. Well, that sounded like a him problem and not a Dick problem.

In the opening of the alley Dick could see Robin phoning the police and decided to get the fuck away before his night ended with him being arrested for prostitution on top of all the other shit. But before he could vanish deeper into the alley and back on top of a fire escape, Hood stopped him:

“I know things are probably really shitty right now. I just thought you should now, that… me and B going snooping wasn’t cool. But B was alarmed about the number of bruises and cuts on your body and, honestly, so was I. Not an excuse. Just an explanation.”

“Whatever. Can you just fuck off and leave me alone? For real this time?”

“Sure. Just… We moved because we knew Black Mask had something planned. McClain moving in on your territory proved that. After you attacked him yesterday, we knew we had to act fast. But we had the wrong information. Or better yet: Not all of the information.”

Dick was tired. He wanted home. He wanted a shower, a bowl of cereal, and his bed. But most of all, he wanted out of this alleyway and away from the Bats and the embarrassment that clung to his clothes. He wasn’t much of a fight after all, was he? He would have died tonight, hadn’t they saved him.

“And? Your point?”

“The information he just spewed? It’ll help us put him down for a long time.”

“He is a fucking serial rapist. He hurt three of my friends. Killed one of them. Almost killed me. I honestly don’t care as long as I never have to see his fucking face again. Because if I do, I would kill him, and it wouldn’t be pretty.”

“And I understand that. I just wanted you to-“

“Ah, please just fuck off, Hood!”

With that Dick finally pushed past Hood and made his way to the fire escape. His body protested when he climbed up, every muscle aching, his brain full of thoughts he didn’t want to have. His legs didn’t want to move, and his heart was heavy with the fear of what just happened. But most of all, he just wanted home. He just wanted to sleep until all of this was over.

A few nights later saw Dick sitting on top of his apartment building, dangling his legs from the side of the roof. He had managed to pay the rent. For now, at least. He was waiting for the sun to start rising, not tired yet, since he hadn’t found it in himself to go out each night and beat assholes up ever since _it_ happened.

Having to be saved kind of put a damper on your self-worth and on the assuredness in your abilities. He would go out. Probably. Something bad enough was going to happen and Dick would no longer feel worthless or weak – or maybe he would. But he would go out again. Maybe. Someday.

He just needed some time until then. Some room to think.

Which certainly wasn’t going to happen if crazy stalkers decided to not respect your private space.

“You can come out now, Batman.”

“Sorry”

The dark shadow sat down next to him. His legs still where they sat seven floors above the ground.

“What are you doing here? You couldn’t get away fast enough after you saved my ass four days ago.”

“Yeah, I wanted to apologize for that. Black Bat called an emergency in.”

Dick looked at the giant next to him, at the worry lines around the mouth, at the dark suit that was mostly armor and way less Bat than his childhood stories had made him believe.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. But that’s alright.”

Silence fell over them and Dick was forced to contemplate that this was his reality: Sitting on top of a shitty apartment building, in the worst part of the city, waiting for the sunrise. With Batman. Maybe that was why he said what he did:

“So, I didn’t imagine it then?”

“Hn?”

“That you waited outside of my room in some of the bad group homes when I sneaked out. That you made sure teenage me made it home safe, even if the home itself wasn’t good.”

“I--- yes. It was the least I could do.”

Dick knew who Batman was. Had known for years. Had connected the dots and yet never told anyone about it. He did now.

“It’s not your fault, you know that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not your fault that I ended up where I did. It’s not your fault that the system’s racist and the Gotham foster system full of predators. You had no obligation to take me in. You had no reason to. It’s okay.”

Sometimes Dick had imagined what his life would have been like if Bruce Wayne adopted him. If he would go to fancy galas, or if he would dress up as a Bat as well. He wondered if he would have had to survive what his own life had forced him to live through. He asked himself if he would be happier.

Those were useless thoughts, though. He had to play this game called life with the cards he had been dealt. Wondering what it would look like if he had another set of cards was useless. And only let to heartbreak.

Batman was looking at him, surprise evident on his face even though he was still wearing the cowl. It was a weird look, one that Dick bet very few people had seen on the face of the Caped Crusader.

“I mean, we can cut the crap, right? You found out that Dick Grayson liked to beat up perverted johns wearing a ski mask and black workout clothes and I figured that the man behind the mask was Bruce Wayne, who hugged me after my parents died.”

They were silent once again after Dick’s admission. Dick had the vague feeling that Batman wasn’t really a person of many words. Maybe that made it so important, that it was Batman who broke the silence. That it was Bruce who spoke next:

“I tried. After your parent’s death. I tried taking you in. I talked to everyone who would listen, but nobody wanted to give a child to a 25-year-old drunk. So, I stopped for a while. Cleaned up my act. And when I went looking for you, you’d gotten lost in the system. I met Jason shortly thereafter, and then… you kind of slipped through the cracks.”

“Oh, wow, compliments.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“You became that one kid I couldn’t save. There were many more after that, but they all wore your face. And then I found you again, but…”

“But it was too late. I was too old, with too many convictions in my files, and labelled unadoptable by the city. I know.”

The words left a bitter taste on Dick’s tongue. He had stolen so he had something to eat. He had fought to defend himself. But the city had taken every act of respect Dick had shown for himself and used it against him.

Maybe that was the reason he had to continue fighting. Maybe giving up now just meant that the city had taken another bit of self-worth from his hands. He wouldn’t let it. He would continue fighting for himself. And for those who were just like him.

“Still, I should have done more. And I am so sorry that I didn’t, Dick. You deserve the world and all you got was this”

Batman moved his hand, gesturing over the city, and the pale light that started coloring the city in ugly shades of gray. The sunrise hadn’t started yet, hadn’t painted the city in vibrant remnants of light. Now it was just ugly. Now it was pale, and dirty, and utterly Gotham.

“Hah. Didn’t know Batman was allowed to talk about Gotham like that.”

“It’s my city in a sense. I see her ugly sides just as much as the ones that let me continue fighting.”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“I think, I know now what I have to do.”

“Huh?”

Dick grinned when he turned to Batman:

“I think I’m gonna continue fighting. Someone has to fight for us. For the underdogs. The whores. The ones no one wants to safe. And I’m better at that than you are.”

Batman didn’t seem particularly happy with Dick’s words, but Dick no longer cared. That night, that day, where everything had gone to shit, had shaken him. But this right now? This made hope surge through Dick’s veins.

Batman seemed to come to the same conclusion. He opened up one of his gauntlets and reached inside. His hand came back out with a tiny piece of paper pinched between his fingers. A business card. Dick didn’t even try to hide his bemused grin when Batman gave it to him.

“Call me. When you need help. Or if you want some training. But call me.”

“Does that mean you’ll finally leave me alone?”

“I can’t make promises for the kids, but… I might be inclined to respect your privacy more if I knew you could call for help if a situation gets out of control.”

Dick pocketed the card. It sent a warm shiver down his spine. Back-up. It had been years since he had literal back-up to count on. Years since his parents had fallen. Since Dick had had them to count on.

“Hm… I’ll think about it.”

“That is all I can ask.”

And together they sat there, on a dirty roof, of a dingy apartment, staring into the city, waiting for the sunrise. And it came. One streak of light after the other painted Gotham pink, and orange, and fiery red. It was a landscape of light that turned Gotham into a piece of art. The skyscrapers reflected golden streaks of glitter, the smog worked like a prism sending a rainbow of yellow light across every park and building until it reached the river.

It was a masterpiece. It was wonderful. It made moments like this worthwhile.

Dick turned around, wanting to ask Batman just why Dick had touched him so deeply, but the man in question was long gone. Dick was alone. And for once in his life that didn’t feel like the most crushing thing ever. Instead it felt… okay.

Maybe this would be okay.

Dick should go to bed, should sleep, so he was fit enough to beat up bad guys tomorrow, but before he did that, he enjoyed the sunrise a bit longer.

Let the vibrant color fill him up a bit more.

Let himself see a side of Gotham that was worthy of him.


End file.
